Prologue

Father Abel Nightroad sighed and removed his glasses as he folded the crisp piece of paper he had just finished reading. He pinched the bridge of nose, the permanent headache he had as a result of wearing the disorienting spectacles had suddenly intensified after taking in the full meaning of the letter's contents. His glasses, much like his normal clumsy demeanour, were part of a cleverly constructed persona, and the Vatican priest did not actually need them in order to see clearly. In fact, they served the exact opposite of their intended purpose for this unusual man of the cloth. The tall, silver-haired priest wore them so that he couldn't see more than two-feet in front of him.

If anyone had been aware of this fact, they would have thought the 20-year-old to be even more strange than he already seemed. Well, unless they knew of the reasons behind his act.

Over eight hundred years ago, it was said that a great massacre had occurred shortly after the dawn of the existence of Methuselah, more commonly known as vampires (much to the race's great disgust). The leader of their nation, Emperor Nightlord, a legendary soldier and worthy, fair ruler, was betrayed by the only other notable empire on Earth, that of the human race. Although no one knows exactly how the humans, who were also termed terrans by the Methuselah, betrayed the vampire royal, every member of vampire and human race alike shudder at the tale's recount of his vengeance. The emperor, driven mad with betrayal and a lust for revenge, slaughtered seven million of the humans; men, women and children alike, with no remorse. It was said that his older brother had tried to stop him, but the irate emperor had turned on him as well, in a fit of frenzy. It is not foretold how the fight between the two brothers ended, or what had become of them or their younger sister; but it is only known that there has been no sign of either of the trio since that fateful war. A new leader, Empress Augusta Vradica rose up and led the Methuselah nation through the war, continuing to rule them presently; and the humans had recovered, bouncing back like they have always done. Some say that to this day the two brothers continue to battle it out, the reason for each of their fights forgotten, and both of them having been driven insane by having to go head to head with their beloved sibling for centuries.

Father Nightroad tightened the two fingers he still held to his nose involuntarily as he recalled the legend that had been passed down from both Methuselah and human races for as long as he could remember. He knew well enough that, although the need for revenge had ultimately sparked the Human-Methuselah war, it was not that that had caused the emperor to lash out so drastically. Rather, it was the other consciousness he had held in his mind for over two centuries. The crusnik nanomachines that had whispered empty promises of a peaceful resolving of what had previously been only a threat of war. Instead, they had taken over his body and become the cause for the conflict the reasonably peaceful emperor had not wanted in the first place. Once again, this was an odd fact for a simple priest to be aware of.

But Father Abel Nightroad was not merely a servant of the Lord. He was a nine hundred-year-old servant of the Lord. Who was neither human or vampire. He was, in fact, the emperor the legends speak so crudely of. Emperor Abel Nightlord. Thinking back on it, Father Nightroad could have chosen a name that had been a little further from the original if he had really wanted to conceal his true identity. However, after seven centuries of serving a penance for his actions when the nanomachines had been in control, he had become much wiser and could see now that he had never really truly wanted to disown his family and his name, even if he believed he did. The moment he had left his empire, his sister Seth Nightlord, one and the same as Empress Augusta Vradica, had made him promise to one-day return to his rightful throne. He had done so, never fully intending to keep that promise in his belief that he had betrayed his people.

But now…

He looked down at the letter again, which bore the elegant cursive handwriting of his sister. There was apparently trouble rising within the New Human Empire's inner circle, and the Methuselah were growing restless. Father Nightroad chuckled mirthlessly as he re-read Seth's statement that the legends surrounding Abel Nightlord had included a time of his 'second coming' so to speak. That is, if he was no longer battling his brother and – of course – had become sane again. So many ifs.

Although Abel had thankfully returned to his right mind after the horror and despair he had felt at the crusnik's actions turned out to be powerful enough to subdue its conscious; the part about fighting his brother was still somewhat true. It was not a constant battle as the legends stated, however. This particular conflict was going on at a far slower pace but, in spite of the fact that Abel had recently crippled Cain's little 'fan club', the man had not arrived to challenge his younger brother on the matter.

Cain Nightlord had in fact been driven insane by the crusnik contained in his own system all those centuries ago. He had fought the nanomachines as Abel had done, only – he had lost, and there was no longer a trace of the older brother Abel had once looked up to and loved.

That Cain had died when 01, the name of his crusnik, had mercilessly murdered her.

Abel ground his teeth and shook his head in an attempt to clear it of the painful memories that had begun to resurface. Both the humans and Methuselah had thought the three Nightlord siblings to merely be extremely powerful vampires themselves. In truth, they were something much worse. They were vampires' vampires. Sustaining themselves by feeding only on vampire blood, the crusniks – named so for the nanomachines they housed – could release their power to certain percentages. Cain had been permanently fused to one hundred percent, a state that had caused him to lose the battle against 01; while both Abel and Seth could only activate their crusnik up to the eightieth percentile. At each increase in percentage, their forms grew more fearsome, becoming less and less human and more like the monsters they truly were. Abel shuddered as he recalled the true form of the crusnik, something he had only seen once when Cain, or 01, had activated it.

Noticing his thoughts wandering, Father Nightroad once again attempted to focus on the task at hand, or rather the decision he was going to have to make in response to the persistent request at the end of the letter just above the imperial insignia. He had been successful in putting the matter off for centuries, and it would have been so easy to simply continue putting it off for a few more; but he resisted the temptation. His younger sister needed him, and Abel was not going to abandon her for a second time.

His decision clear in his mind, he placed the deceiving spectacles on his dark, wooden desk and removed the black ribbon that held back his long, silver hair.

The lord of the Night was finally going to return to his people.